


the road not taken looks real good now

by RollyPratt



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Angst and Fluff, F/M, There wasn’t supposed to be any fluff but I’ve gone soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RollyPratt/pseuds/RollyPratt
Summary: She knew, deep down, that one week-end wouldn’t be enough, in the long run.
Relationships: Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 60
Collections: Look What Discord Made Me Do





	the road not taken looks real good now

**Author's Note:**

> Another one inspired by Taylor Swift’s _‘tis the damn season_. Because apparently 99% of the Dasey fandom are Swifties. No complaints.
> 
> Anyway, blame the Discord for this.
> 
> Happy holidays! ♥️

She could feel him eyeing her from the front door steps, his arms crossed over his chest, as she pulled her luggage from the backseat of her car. The trunk, filled with presents for the whole family, didn’t have any space left for her stuff. Maybe she overdid it a little bit this year, but shopping had been the only way to deal with her nerves upon coming back home for Christmas. 

There shouldn’t be anything to be so nervous about. It was her family. Yet, it was the same every single year. In the few days preceding her trip, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Her hands were practically shaking, and she convinced herself that it wasn’t in anticipation.

The thing was that while coming back to London should mean coming home to her family, what Christmas in London really meant to Casey was: _Derek._

It was the only time of the year she saw or even spoke to him, their meticulous avoidance ensuring that they never visited at the same time. Except at Christmas. A whole week-end during which they allowed themselves to pretend there wasn’t a giant rift filled with hurt between them. The family never commented on this obvious arrangement, likely relieved to get this one reprieve from the cold at least once a year. All for the family’s benefit, of course.

She walked up the pathway to the house, up to him, and stopped on the last step. His demeanor seemed relaxed, exhibiting nonchalance like he wasn’t filled with the same excitement she was, but his eyes spoke otherwise, betraying the pure thrill that bubbled up inside of him. It was only one week-end.

They stared at each other for an indeterminate stretch of time, it could have been short, it could have been endless. His hair had grown longer since she last saw him, messy curls falling into place perfectly over his forehead. He’d also decided to stop shaving his face, apparently. She hated that she wanted to reach out and sink her fingertips into it.

Her hand stayed put, tightly gripping the handle of her suitcase.

The moment quickly swelled, strained from the ache and longing, so much so Casey thought something was about to burst. That something could have been her heart. Nevermind the fragile fissure in it that threatened to make her crumble at any moment. 

This week-end would make it all better. At least for another year.

What finally broke out was a winning smile on Derek’s face, and _god_ , she’d missed his smile. Uncrossing his arms, he let them hang at his sides and rolled his eyes. “Well, don’t look so happy to see me, will you?”

Casey chuckled and shook her head at him. Just like that, the stare down was over. The cool air was breathable again, and they were smiling at each other.

She only noticed her grip on her suitcase had loosened when he took it from her, in a spontaneous gallant gesture. He nodded his head towards the door. “You gonna come inside or you just wanna keep staring at me?”

Her answering scoff was pretty convincing, if anyone asked her. (Of course she would stare at him all day if she could get away with it). “Like I don’t have better things to do,” Casey said offhandedly, nudging past him and inside the house.

“Oh, I can think of _some things_.” She caught him with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek suggestively when she turned to give him a _look_. As if she wasn’t thinking about the same things he was.

Barely through the door, she was immediately assailed by a swarm of welcoming siblings. Derek retreated up the stairs with her suitcase, rolling his eyes at the warm display.

* * *

It was past midnight when she snuck downstairs to the basement and knocked on the bedroom door, entering the room without waiting for a response. Derek was lying in bed, scrolling on his phone with the dim light of the lamp at his side. He’d waited up. He always did.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes as he sat up to put the cellphone away. “Any later and you would have found me snoring in your face.”

“You can’t complain. You’re not the one who has to sneak around.”

“It was me last year.”

“Shut up. Lizzie and Marti stayed up late.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care.” 

Next, he was pulling her to him and she found herself sitting in his lap, his arms securely wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t keep her fingers from the damn scruff on his cheeks for very long - they were _immediately_ drawn to it. He sat obediently while she inspected his face, his eyes fluttered shut as she delicately traced his jaw. Meanwhile, his hands slowly started rubbing up and down her back. 

She was suddenly feeling warm, so warm, his breath so hot against her cheek, his lips looming over hers, unavoidable. Grabbing his face -maybe a little harshly- between her hands, she pulled him into her, pressing her mouth furiously on his. It felt incredibly cathartic when his tongue wrapped around hers, when his teeth nipped at her bottom lip, his hand holding the back of her neck. A full year of yearning instantly purged, life restored to its proper axis.

He was _hers_ for the week-end, just this _one_ week-end of the year, and nothing could make her give it up. Christmas was still hers. She didn’t want to think about what would happen when, eventually, it wouldn’t be anymore. She pushed her body down on him, her grip on him overly possessive, and she knew it.

He didn’t complain. He never did.

* * *

They were left alone on the morning of Christmas eve, everybody agreeing to let Casey sleep in after her long drive from the day before, and nobody wanting to disturb Derek in the basement so early. The family left for breakfast, and Casey and Derek slept in.

She woke up feeling rested, safe, nestled against his chest, tucked tightly under his arm. His sleeping form was peaceful, even breathing lulling her into a content state of being. During this brief moment, they just _were_.

* * *

His eyes always drifted towards the exit for the highway, but he never took it. She liked to think that he imagined some kind of get away, the two of them driving off together somewhere and leaving everything behind. 

She liked to picture what it would be like if he ever took that fork in the road, taking the choice out of her hands. She would be relieved. She wouldn’t have to go back to New York, or dancing, or her fear of failure.

It could be good, a life of wandering around, never settling in one place, to just keep on going - with him. It was always going to be him anyway, wasn’t it? Why push off the inevitable?

But he didn’t take it. At the end of the week-end, she would leave, and he wouldn’t ask her to stay.

Instead, he drove them around town according to their agreed itinerary. It was like a drive down memory lane, the nostalgia intensifying their desire for closeness- for each other.

They stopped at the back of the high school to make out. Desperate. Frantic. His cold fingers seeking warmth between her thighs. He pulled at her scarf to keep her close, and her whole body shivered, because it would _never_ be close enough.

And she knew, deep down, that one week-end wouldn’t be enough, in the long run.

* * *

Presents were opened at midnight, wrapping paper flying, the lights in the tree blinking joyfully. George and Nora fretted about the mess they would have to clean up. Lizzie was lecturing about eco-friendly wrapping options. Edwin was already booting up his new laptop. Marti didn’t care.

When the family wasn’t paying attention, Derek slipped the present in front of Casey. The gift itself wasn’t anything so suspicious that it warranted the discretion. She already knew what it was. He got her a new journal every year. But the way he watched her open it, the way she caressed the rich texture of the leather bound journal -it was the high end, expensive kind, she could tell-, _that_ was too intimate to share with everyone else.

By the time anyone returned their attention to them, the journal was set aside, not hidden, not forgotten, but not spoken of. She would later on fill it with all of her thoughts and secrets and feelings, until the last page was turned. Then it would join all the others in the box at the back of her closet.

* * *

“Come on, I’ve seen you do this enough times to know you don’t completely suck at it,” Derek teased, his infuriating grin firmly in place. Faceless strangers glided gracefully past them.

Casey wobbled on her skates. “It might seem easy for you, Mr. Professional Hockey Player, but I don’t do this often. I need some time to get used to it.”

“You’re really going to make me do the cheesy thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not making you do anything!-“

“Come on, Princess.” He grabbed her hands, pulling her forward further onto the ice. His arm shooted to her hip, stabilizing her when she threatened to go planting face down. He laughed, the sound equally irritating and melodious to her ears. “I don’t believe this. You don’t have an ounce of coordination when you’re not on a stage, do you?”

“This is hard!”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

Frowning down at her skates, she focused on keeping her feet angling straight forward as Derek dragged her along.

A gentle finger coaxed her chin up. “Look up here.”

She fell into his molten brown eyes, unable to look away. He was still holding her hand in one of his, the other still holding her hip. Her own free hand was secured on his shoulder. Like this, they were practically dancing. Except Derek was skating backwards, guiding them through large laps around a frozen pond. 

The fresh smell of pine drifted to her nose. The Christmas lights wrapped around the trees blinking in the corner of her vision. But her eyes never left his.

Casey was floating amongst clouds.

They came to a stop in the middle of the ice. She looked up, only quickly, vaguely expecting to find a mistletoe above their heads. There were only stars scattered over a clear black sky. It wasn’t even snowing, but the scene could have been out of a movie.

Derek tucked a strand of hair under her hat, slowly lowering his face close to hers. She met his lips eagerly, welcoming the warmth that spread through her at the touch.

Around them, there were sounds of giggles and skates slicing ice, but her thoughts were full of _Derek_.

The back of her mind softly whispered. _It’ll be over tomorrow_.

* * *

Waking up in his arms was bittersweet when she knew she was leaving in just a few short hours. It got harder every time. She hugged him close, listening to the soothing beat of his heart, bathing in the heat of his skin, and closed her eyes. _A few more hours_.

She had to go back, she knew. The logical part of her brain knew this, but her heart - it was being ripped apart. If she listened carefully, she could hear the sound of ripping in his chest as well.

His arm squeezed her tighter. “Stop it, babe. It’s not time to wake up yet.”

He read her mind, like he read her body, like he read her smiles and her eyes.

She pouted, adding an audible whine. “But what if I oversleep and then it’s too late to leave?”

“What _if_ you oversleep?” He repeated, his voice still groggy from sleep taking on the tone of a suggestion rather than a question. “And then you don’t leave.”

Grateful that she couldn’t see his face, she burrowed deeper into him, inhaling his scent at the base of his neck. “What if I don’t leave?”

“Then you’re still here.”

She smiled at how simple he made it sound.

* * *

Reaching for her hand over the middle console, he brought it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss in the middle of her palm.

He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road, and turned at the next exit.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don’t we love a happy ending!


End file.
